Rin
by Augustus Sol
Summary: My name is Rin, and this is the story of my life starting from the day I turned fifteen.
1. Prologue

**Warning, this story will be lonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng. Very, very long. And cheeky. Very, very cheeky.**

* * *

My name is Rin. Yoshida Rin according to my birth certificate, but I have no attachment to my surname. I don't have a family, they… I don't know what they did, never met them. I'm certain they were great people though, even if they left me behind.

Okay, can I have a do-over here? That's a terrible opening, just have to say, and this is my life I'm writing about here. This is the record of me; my autobiography if you will. I don't know if I really want to start it with such a depressing sentiment.

Let's try this again.

Today is my fifteenth birthday, and today I've decided I will start my autobiography. I've always kept records of my life, diaries I keep locked in the top drawer of my desk. This is different though. Perhaps it's just my excitement over finally getting a laptop that makes me think this is such a great idea, but I really think me writing down my life sounds good. Day after day; what adventures will I find myself locked in? What stories about my life would I not remember elsewise without this when my hair is grey, and I'm as old as the earth itself? Yeah, this is what this is. A record. A record of who I am, me, Yoshida Rin, for all the future generations to read once I've past from this earth. I've got a word processor, a memory stick, a lap top, and a stack of notebooks that already have a record of my first fifteen years which I will sum up now in this prologue.

I was born February 28th, 1998 to Yoshida Aimi and Yoshida Takehiro. As I already stated in my failed attempt at a beginning, I've never met them. I was abandoned on the doorstep of the Orphanage at six months old.

Kaede, the head caretaker of the Orphanage, loves to spin stories about how I came to be in this world, and how I ended up at their doorstep. Often the tales weaved are elaborate ones. She speaks of fairytale-esque tales. My favorite ones of these tales is the one where my mother is the step-daughter of a hateful widow. The widow, as my diary states, was a spider yōkai living in the guise of a human being. It ate its late husband's head, and was waiting for her step-daughter to grow up so she could eat her too. My mother however, ran across a handsome business man who was a skilled man in the arts of kendo. They fell in love and my mother got pregnant. She carried me for nine months, craftily concealing her body so that she didn't look very large and whenever her stepmother said something about her being fatter, my mother saying she was gaining weight from all the good food her step-mother served. One day, six months after I am born, the step-mother bursts in on my mother and my father meeting. My father fights my step-mother as my mother escapes into the streets. She gives me to the Orphanage and hopes that my life will be better than anything she could provide. Kaede first told me this tale when I was five years old, and even then I knew it was just a story. Still, I remember it fondly.

My own theory since I was twelve has been that my mother was some reckless woman who got pregnant, the dad ran out on her, and she decided she'd keep me. When she found out though that rearing a child was tough, she left me on the doorstep of the Orphanage and never looked back. I like Kaede's theory better though.

For most of my life, I haven't spoken. I can speak, and as I get older I find that I have more and more to say. When I was four, I was out playing with the other children in the yard. We found a piece of a glass in the yard in the far corner near the dead cherry tree. One of the older girls, whose name is Kikumi if Kaede's notes are to be trusted, decided she wanted to play out how her parents were killed. She made stabbing motions and ended up pinning me against the ground. She held the knife against my throat, but then one of the older boys who were playing ball nearby backed into her and the knife penetrated my skin. I was rushed to the ER but the damage had been done. Ever since then, speaking has been everything from a dull agony to a blinding torture, but mostly a dull agony now. I carry a little notepad around with me everywhere, but if necessary, I can and will speak and try to rather than write since writing can be kind of weird.

I'm looking through all my diaries right now as I sit on this bed, reading each of them with a smile, but I notice something. They're not very well detailed. Important events for me back then are well written, like how I lost my first tooth eating sushi at one of the other orphan's birthday party. But there's nothing important, nothing that I really need to record. I see lots of I want a puppy and I want to be adopted, but nothing that great. There's an account of when it seemed like I was going to be adopted by this older gentleman in his fifties when all of a sudden he just stopped showing up and no one mentioned him anymore. I know why now; he was a child molester and he was arrested.

Not much. Kind of disappointing for a prologue, but hopefully my life moving forward is more interesting than this. I hope so. Maybe I'll fall in love, likely not, or something soon, or make a new friend. I am transferring to a new school tomorrow after all.


	2. I - March 1st

**Day One – March 1st**

**Bus**

I catch the bus outside the Orphanage at seven thirty in the morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. The other students, all of whom have been going to the school since the beginning of the school year I'm assuming, look droopy eyed and tired. Some have headphones in the ears, blasting pop and hip-hop so loud I can hear it across the aisle and three seats down. I take a seat before the bus lurches forward and heads for the next stop next to a girl with dyed red hair and a graphic shirt with an iris on it.

That's the cool thing about the new school I'm going to. They don't have uniforms and they allow us to have dyed hair. I don't dye my hair, I prefer the dark brown, nearly black look of it that I keep long to my mid-back, but I've always liked dyed hair. I also support individuality so it's nice to know that people can be individuals, not just another girl in a green skirt and a white shirt. My old school uniform had blue skirts actually, a white shirt, and then a grey vest. It was pretty, but I felt like just another uniform instead of another person. That's just me be overly dramatic though, I suppose.

Moving on from that tangent though, she also has headphones in, plugged into her top of the line smartphone. I can hear softly a rock song playing from headphones. So instead I look down at my hands, sneaking a few quick looks at her occasionally. She's wearing denim skinny-jeans, the iris shirt as I mention, and bright pink Converse. She has a purple back-pack, and I can see a lime-green binder sticking out from it along with text books. On the binder is written the word Ayame in black sharpie, so I assume the iris girl's name is Ayame.

"What are you staring at?" asked a gruff female voice. Instantly I looked at Ayame who is staring at me incredulously. Oh my god, I must seem like some creep sneaking glances and all. I can feel heat in my cheeks and I know I'm blushing so hard. I must look like some little kid whose parents just caught them with their hand in the cookie jar.

"I'm so, so, _so_ sorry," I stutter quietly, looking down at my clasped hands. "I just didn't know where to look and all and I just…" I trail off, my train of thought gone. Great job Rin, you just managed to look like a weirdo to a fellow classmate without even stepping on school grounds. Call of Guinness World Record because this has to be some sort of record. World, I have failed you, life, I have failed you. Kill me now for certainly I'm just a waste of breath. An over-dramatic waste of breath.

Ayame sighs and looks back down at her phone. She's playing some sort of game with fruit being tossed up on the screen and then swiping her finger to cut the fruit and then the fruit juices splatter against the background. Looks like fun, but I don't want to seem like anymore of creep than I must already seem so I look away towards the aisle. The bus lurches to a halt, with a creak the doors slide open and more students board the bus. With every student the level of noise on the bus rises and I sit there limply while I wait for the bus to come to a halt at its final destination.

**School**

We arrive. Everyone stands up from their seats before the bus even comes to a halt, and to look even remotely normal, I follow suit. The bus doors creak open, and it's a stampede to get out of the dingy, dirty vehicle. I'm pushed and shoved around as I try to make my way towards the front. Even though it only takes less than a minute to get to the doors and out into the fresh air, it feels like forever.

When we're off the bus, we're in another crowd. Students rush to fellow students, eagerly chatting and perking up. I see Ayame rush off in the direction of a huddle of boys, two with crazy white, grey, and black colored hair, and some punk wanna-be with neon blue colored contacts and black hair pulled into a pony-tail. The red-haired girl bounces up to the punk wanna-be and wraps her arms around his neck, lips smashed against his in a heartbeat. I look away, heat returning to me cheeks. Gah, PDA much?

I look around. Everyone knows everyone. It doesn't seem like there is a single person who doesn't have someone to talk to… well, besides me of course. To be expected. I don't expect people to rush up to me and start chatting away at me. They don't know me; I'm just strange girl wearing a white blouse and lavender skirt.

I walk past the gates, past the sign that states Morihara High School, past more gaggles of students. I'm heading towards the doors, where there are more gaggles of students in thicker gaggles. The doors haven't been unlocked yet. That's pretty disappointing. I want to get inside, go to the office, and get all the information. Just standing off to the side here, hugging my orange binder to my chest as I bite my lip is kind of depressing. I'm alone, there's no one who is even sparing a glance in my direction.

With a sigh, I pull the book sticking out of my binder with a harsh tug. The book is called Atlantic Memories. It's by my favorite foreign writer, and it's shaping up to be as good a novel as any of her other novels. I'm excited to continue it but for a brief moment I can't help myself. What if people glance over at me and see the book. Will they judge me? It is erotica, and the half-naked woman on the cover in a bikini really doesn't do anything to deny that fact. I push that out of my mind though. If someone would judge me for the books I enjoy, then they're not worth my time.

_"Sarah Thompson." The name rolls off his tongue as if it's a beautiful exotic name, to go along with a beautifully exotic woman with long, tanned legs, and curves in all the right places. The way he says my name doesn't match who I am. Plain Jane Sarah Thompson. I like the way he says it though, and I beg him as I kiss the bronzed skin of his six-pack for him to say it more. "Sarah Thompson, Sarah Thompson, Sarah Thompson," he repeats over and over as my fingers trace the edge of his plaid boxers._

_I slip my fingers under the edge of his boxers and slowly, painfully slowly, begin to pull them down. I rest on my knees, my wide blue eyes holding his brown, smoldering gaze as I tug down his boxers and release his – _

The bell rings and instantly my brown eyes snap up from the page. A woman in a tweed skirt and blazer unlocks the door and instantly there are people clamoring to get in. It's like a popular clothing store at the mall saying that for the next ten minutes, everything in the store is free. I hang back; let the crowd disperse into the tiled halls before I head into the building. Finally I head into the building and I look to the green signs, and follow their white arrows to where the office is. There is one student already there, slouching in one of the chairs as he glances around the room with slanted eyes. I know he's there because he's in trouble and so I don't glance at him at all beyond the initial first look and scurry to the secretary behind the desk.

"How may I help you?" she asks when her eyes land on me. I smile at her, one arm coming to rest on the desk. I look down at my book bag as I rifle around it until I pull out the note Kaede had written for me in her beautiful hand-writing. I hand it to the lady behind the desk, and with an incredulous glare shot my way she reads it over. My smile falls. Of course I look like a weirdo _again_ simply for being my awkward, silent self. Not my fault it hurts to talk, and since I have a note, I'm not going to bother to talk.

"Yoshida Rin," she whispers as she reads the note. She reaches the end then glances back up at me. "You're the transfer student. Well we're glad to have you," she says with a fake smile. I can see some of her hot pink lipstick on her off-white teeth. She reaches for a stack of papers and puts them in front of me. "This has a map of the school, some school rules, your schedule, and a school calendar so you can know what's going on and when. Have a good day."

I grab the papers and wave at her as I leave. While I was interacting with the secretary the trouble-maker had disappeared. I open the door, glancing down at the papers. Right now the map and my schedule were most important. I'm in class 1B. My first teacher is Dezaki-sensei and he is my math teacher. Oh, how I hate math. I also look for where my locker is. The locker pod is up stairs and class 1B is on the first level, yay. With a sigh, I tuck my papers into my binder and head for the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs is another gaggle of girls. One of them has dyed blonde hair and she's wearing a tight, blue short-sleeve shirt and a white mini-skirt with pink stripes. I meet eyes with her. I know her, I swear, I know her. This wave of familiarity roles over me when I see her, even though I have no idea who she is actually. I'm guessing she was an orphan like me at one point and lived at the Orphanage for a while, and she was probably one of the lucky ones who got adopted.

"Rin?" she asks. The girls around her look towards me, their brown gazes heavy with judgment. I stop, looking at the girl. So I must be right, she must know me and I must know her. I hurry towards her, inquisitively looking at her. A smile grows on the blonde girl's face. "Rin, it is you! Oh my god how are you?" She stops, evidently waiting for me to answer even though I have no idea who she is. She then rolls her eyes, and I cringe. "I'm sorry, you probably don't recognize me. It's me Kikumi!"

Kikumi…

Oh Kikumi. I know who Kikumi is. I've already mentioned her briefly in my prologue. She's the one who, on accident of course, injured me so badly that it hurts every time I talk even years after it happened. She was adopted two years after she had injured me, when I had just been regaining my voice. So yes, now that she's told me her name, I know who she is. She's Kikumi. I don't hold any grudge against her, but I never really got along with her even before I got hurt.

"Hello Kikumi," I whisper. The other girls around us are silent, looking from Kikumi to me and then back again. They seem bored, like they don't want me to be here, that I interrupted them which I'm certain that I did. I probably interrupted their gossip about some popular actor and the latest girl he was dating.

"Does it still hurt to talk?" she asks me. I can tell she's being sympathetic and sincere. Her wide brown eyes are warm and inviting. I just feel uncomfortable with her friends who obviously want me gone.

"Yes it does," I answer quietly. I start tapping my foot and shift my weight. I know it probably looks kind of rude but I'm about to bolt under the scrutiny of her friends. I just want to go to my locker and put my bag in there, then go to class. It's nice to know there's a friendly face, but right now I just want to get to class.

"Well, I'll let you go now. If you need any help, just come and find me."

I smile and nod at her before I dash up the stairs.

**Math**

I looked up at the sign sticking out from the wall and read the white letters. 1B. This was it. This was my class. In there, I was officially a student. These were the people I would be spending the rest of my year here at Morihara High School with. Would the people in there look up at my entrance, judge me as they rested eyes on me for the first time? Would they continue talking, not spare me a glance, and when I sat down and asked for a pencil, would they sneer at me and ignore me?

With a deep sigh, I reached out with trembling fingers and opened the door. I stepped in and saw that there were four students already there, and the math teacher. I turned to close the door behind me since I'm guessing class doesn't start for a little more.

"You can leave it open," said the teacher. "Before school detention is over, that was why it was closed."

I nodded, bowed to the teacher and then took a seat in the middle of the room on the edge. I glance over at the students that were here for before school detention. Two of them are wearing black, they have black eye-liner, black mascara, and piercings on their face. I can't really tell them apart, they look very similar and Goth. Okay, I note to myself to ignore them. I look at the other two students. One of them has white hair that reaches his waist and he's wearing a red shirt over a white long-sleeved shirt. I can't see his face, but I can see his thrumming fingers and tapping foot. Behind me is the fourth person. A woman with black hair she has pulled back into a high-ponytail and contacts that make her eyes look red. Her lips a wine red, pressed into a thin line as she taps her pencil against a book. I read the title. Battle Royal.

Yeah no, I'm definitely not going to befriend any of these people today. I'm certain they're not _that_ bad of people, but I really don't want to befriend a trouble-maker on my first day. That really just doesn't sound like a good idea to me.

I pull out my book again, glancing at the clock as I do so. There is nearly half an hour before class starts. Well, I have plenty of time, no wonder I'm the first person here that didn't have to be here before the school doors even opened. I flip through the pages until the next chapter, skimming each page just to make sure I don't miss any important information. The chapter ends, ends the sex scene as well. They're fine for reading in my room at the Orphanage, but I really don't want to read the sex scene right now. Maybe I'll go back and read it later.

_Fabian squinted his eyes as he looked out the window. The sun was barely above the horizon in the east, but he found that he couldn't sleep. Guilt racked at him. Sarah trusted him, believed in him. She thought the words he'd whispered to while he made love to her had been true, that he loved her and cherished her, that he would be hers forever. Smirking at the window, he shook his head._

_He would never be hers. He didn't want to be hers. Sarah Thompson, just as she made such a point to him, was nothing more than some plain Jane. She was always telling him that he deserved some exotic beauty, and she was right. His exotic beauty lived back in Spain though, and he needed the money he would have when he married Sarah. He would marry Sarah, bring Julianne over to the states, and then he would kill Sarah._

"You're in my seat," said a male voice. I snapped up from my book, and looked at the man talking to me. He was the boy who had been in before school detention. I looked over to where he had been sitting and saw the punk wanna-be that Ayame had made out with earlier, Ayame in the seat next to him. I glanced back to the white-haired male.

"You were sitting up there," I say. He sneers at me. Great, making enemies before I even make friends. I'm certain Kaede will be proud of me when I tell her after school.

"Yeah, and now I'm not and now you're in my seat." He cracks his knuckles and my eyes widen. Is he threatening me? He's threatening me. Oh god, I'm about to die. This guy is going to kill me. How cruel the world is to those that are overly dramatic.

"It didn't have your name on it," I grumble. He cracks another knuckle in warning. I grab my book and bend down to pick up the binder I had shoved under my chair. I don't really want to move but I don't see any other resolution to this situation. I like this seat actually, it's in a good place, but I guess this meanie doesn't want me to have it. See! This is why we can't have nice things.

"Hey buddy," says another male voice. I glance up at this one. He's wearing a purple shirt and black skinny jeans. He has hair pulled back into a small pony-tail. He places his hand on Inuyasha's back and glances down at me. "Are you harassing this pretty female, Inuyasha?"

"So?" Inuyasha grouses. "She's in my spot, you can see that."

"And you don't have OCD so you can sit elsewhere." The man with black-hair spins Inuyasha around and points him at the seat next to me. While I'm glad that this man is getting Inuyasha as he's called to not kill me simply for sitting down, I'm not that thrilled to have Inuyasha sitting next to me. He's already shooting glares at me even though he's taken the seat that the other man had steered him towards. I scratch my neck and look forward, trying not to pay attention to Inuyasha.

"I'm Miroku," says the man who'd kept Inuyasha from killing me. He's taken the seat in front of me, and he's sitting in the chair backwards to face me. "You're new here aren't you? I would know if you weren't, I make sure to memorize every pretty face I see." I blush bright red for sure at Miroku's words. He clasps my hand in both of his and bows his head. I swear I look like I'm staring at an alien. "Will you marry me?"

"Wha!?" I screech. I jerk my hand out of his and hold it against my neck as a sharp pain shoots through me from using it loudly.

"Miroku, stop being a lech," scolds Inuyasha from beside me. I glance over at Inuyasha's who's angry expression has softened to one of mild irritation directed towards his friend. He then turns to look at me with his sharp golden eyes. "He does that to everyone."

"You wound me," said Miroku in a show of dramatics. He held his hand against his chest, a feigned a mask of pain, thrashing in his seat. Out of the corners of my eyes I can see the teacher looking over at us and shaking his head. "Inuyasha, you know how I hate being called a lech. If you will call me something besides Miroku, it's Duan Juan."

"Whatever… _Duan Jaun_."

Before I can laugh, the bell rings and the teacher shouts for the class to settle down. Miroku turns around in his seat and I look up towards the teacher, settling in for boredom.

**Lunch**

Lunch. Oh how I've been dreading lunch. Inuyasha and Miroku are nice, funny, but I would just look like some lost puppy to them if I came up to them and asked if I could sit with them. Not that I wasn't a lost puppy at Morihara High School, but it's kind of lame. Anyway, they've got friends who are going to look at me like I'm some weirdo and I'm just going to be the awkward man out that never gets talked to again by Miroku and Inuyasha. So yeah, that's my dilemma. Where the hell do I sit?

I could go to Kikumi. Yeah no. That would be awkward. So hey, I would whisper, how has life been since you got adopted? It's been good, she would reply, haven't sent anyone to the ER recently. So yeah, no. Anyway, I don't think her friends like me.

I could sit with Ayame. Again, no. There only interaction I have had with her was her telling me I'm a creep and me stuttering a stupid apology. She has a gang already though, a relatively attractive male and two relatively unattractive males who are probably groupies of the attractive one. That's not really what I want to spend high school socializing with.

If you can't tell, I am the most socially awkward person ever. I fret over every interaction I have with a person, what they'll think of me. I'm some overly dramatic loser who can barely talk and probably has a serious case of paranoia. That was probably very clear though already, since you've been listening to me ramble on and on about being judged and avoiding eye contact and blushing bright red. Goes without saying I guess, but I feel cliché… and evidently cheeky too.

I can sit alone I guess. Doesn't solve anything, I'm still going to look like an anti-social freak that doesn't deserve to exist and probably is about to fade of existence at any moment. Still, better than interacting and being told to my face that I'm a mutant that should crawl back in the sewers. So, I take my black bento box over to an empty table and sit alone, surrounded by chatter of happy people who couldn't give one damn about the freak who can barely talk.

I have self-esteem issues. Just felt like pointing out the obvious again.

"You're Yoshida Rin, right?" I hear a rough, male voice say to me. I look up, and I see the boy from the office earlier that had been in trouble. I'm taken aback. He cared to remember my name? Wait, does he want to sit with me?

"Yeah," I say in shock. "Do you need something?" I ask in a lame attempt to cover up that shock.

"Can I sit with you?" he asks, flipping his black hair over his shoulder.

"Sure," I reply, scooting over a little to back up my words. He sets down his tray of food, rice and meat-potato korokke. He has black hair that reaches the middle of his back; it seems crimped and styled, though it might just be naturally that way. He too is wearing contacts that make his eyes look red, and was that blue eye liner? I seriously must be behind on some fashion trend or something because I have never seen such a large group of people wearing colored contacts. Yeesh, Rin is still in the stone-age of fashion I guess.

"My name is Ochiai Naraku," he says before stuffing one of the korokke into his mouth. He covers his mouth with his hand as he chews, and all I can do is stare at him like the stupid idiot I am. His eyebrows knit together in confusion at my disbelieving gaze. He swallows his food in a manner I would say is painful. "Do I have a booger or something?"

"N-no," I rush to say. "I just… Well, why are you sitting here? I'm just some stranger who transferred today and the only semi-interaction we've had is maybe a brief meeting of eyes in the office. You have friends right?" I pause. "Well of course you do, only weirdoes like me couldn't get friends."

"You really don't think much of yourself do you?" he asks, not bothering with the rest of what I said. I awkwardly giggle because he hit it right on the head. I think I'm a worthless piece of shit, pardon my French. "Keh, whatever. I just thought you'd want some company being all alone and whatnot. I'd be alone too if I weren't sitting here."

Oh he just dragged out the puppy eyes. I realize I haven't even touched my lunch and he's already stuffing down another korokke but I can't help but stare at him with big brown eyes and feel my heart break. No one deserves to be alone. Everyone deserves someone who will care. You learn that when you're an orphan. "Why would you be alone?" I ask him, pure sympathy, compassion, and care in my heart. He swallows his korokke and sets down his chopsticks.

"Because everyone hates me. They think I'm some evil mother fucker who is about to kill someone, or do some heinous crime." He stares off to another table, meets eyes with another student before the other student looks away, grabs his tray and moves across the dining hall. "See," he says, looking back to me, "they're all terrified of me. They all think I'm going to kill them, or I'm going to beat them. I'm certain the girls think I'm gonna…" he gulps, disgust evident on his face, "_rape_ them." He snorts. "They hate me, they fear me. It's not one of those situations where they hate me and fear me so they'll grovel to me to get in my good graces. Nope, they know I will see straight through that so they don't even bother."

My heart is breaking in my chest. I feel so bad for him. I just don't know what to say. Sure, I wrote him off as a trouble-maker and avoided him but that's just me. I don't get involved with trouble-makers normally because I'm some mousy little girl who can't defend herself and hates getting hurt. That doesn't mean I'd make a social pariah out of him, ostracize him and hate him simply for… well, I don't why. So, I ask.

"My dad murdered lots of people. Worst serial killer in all of Japanese history I think. I stood trial too, was found mentally incapable of being found guilty, got three years of therapy and rehabilitation since I was ten. There's blood on my hands though."

God, I'm not making this up, this is what he told me, maybe just written a bit differently. It's a tragic back-story, no doubt, sounds like it's straight out of one of the cheesy romance novels I like to read. I looked it up later that day though and everything Naraku said was true. He was guilty of murder, but because of his youth and mental state, they put him in juvenile prison to rehabilitate him since it was found that he had been groomed to kill. By all means it was successful, I have no doubt and neither did the psychiatrists, but he did kill. The other's students' fears weren't completely unfounded. He could kill, I have no doubt of that, I have no doubt that his father's teachings are deeply ingrained and there is a killer in there somewhere. I also have no doubt that Naraku will never kill, because the man talking to me just didn't seem capable of it. He was too kind.

"Ever heard of Nagato Onigumo?" he asks me. I shake my head at him. I hadn't, looked him up before I started writing today and I'll get to that in a moment, but before then I hadn't. The name was unfamiliar. "Look him up," Naraku had told me, "because that's my monster of a father and the reason I'm the most hated man in this school, and why I've always sat alone before today."

Nagato Onigumo was, as Naraku had told me, the most prolific serial killer in all of Japan. He was given the death penalty, and was executed already. There was not a single doubt in anyone's minds that he was guilty. They had DNA evidence, circumstantial, physical, recorded, and after he was sentenced, he even admitted to it. They knew from the first murder. He was good at hiding though. Good at planning.

All of his victims were from the ages of fourteen to twenty-four. He had over two-hundred victims over a ten-year spree. He raped each victim, brutally beat them, and tortured them. What he did to them was absolutely terrible. He was a monster, through and through. I'm surprised Naraku is as nice as he is with a father that horrible.

But Naraku is nice, and I'm definitely calling him my friend.

**Dinner**

I've decided that for today, I will skip over the rest of school. It was boring. There was one test I was exempted from; I didn't make any more friends, etc. I know this is going to being tedious at times, and pretty boring because I'm detailing my very _not _spectacular life, but that would just be ridiculous. I began writing, feel asleep. So I'm just skipping to dinner because if I fall asleep writing a section, I know I'm going to put my reader to sleep. My market is a small enough niche; don't need to eliminate anyone more.

Dinner was… a show. Nah, that's not really what it was. It was a spectacle, certainly. You've got like twenty unruly kids sitting at a giant table, with three care-takers and five teenagers. Dinner is lively here at the Orphanage. As Kaede says, it's on the same level of destruction as Hiroshima, and she's allowed to say that since she lived through Hiroshima in Hiroshima.

I'm going to name you all of the kids at the orphanage. There are twenty-one pre-pubescent elementary students. Half of them will likely be adopted. They are Hiroshi, Akira, Saburou, Kouji, Jirou, Shin'ichi, Keiko, Youko, Kaoru, Hisao, Eiji, Yuuji, Kyouko, Fumio, Nobuo, Hajime, Toshiko, Shigeru, Tadashi, Nozomi, and Hinata. Remember this as I will likely never tell you anything about them. Heck, I can barely tell which one is which. So many children. There are five teenagers, three girls and two boys. There is me of course, Rin, and there is Kahori, Kiyoe, Touru, and Yutaka. There are three care-takers for all of us, Shizuka, Kaede, and Akane. Kaede is the oldest, and I'm closest to her if you haven't already guessed.

During dinner, Youko and Kaoru got into a fight over some anime. Yutaka, being the semi-otaku, got into the heated debate with them with his "I-know-more-than-you" attitude regarding anime. God, there is a reason the only anime I have ever watched is the Pokémon anime… and I still do. Gotta' catch 'em all!

Hinata and Keiko got into a hair pulling match somehow… yeah, I don't know how that happened. I think they were talking about some boy and how Hinata had stolen him from Keiko. I don't know again, but I just think back to my second grade days when we had "boyfriends" and know I was such a whore back then. The mute whore. I made like second grade boys give me a dollar to kiss me. That was how I paid for lunch back then. The good old days, back when child prostitution was cool!

Hisao, Eiji, Yuuji, and Akira all got into a food fight. We were having soba noodles, and Akira happens to love wasabi with his soba noodles. Yuuji got wasabi in his eye, and I spent thirty minutes holding and cooing Yuuji in the bathroom after washing the wasabi out of his eye. Food fights never end well here. Someone gets wasabi in their every time without fail. I've suggested to Kaede that we don't offer wasabi anymore, but the time we did that, someone squirted a lemon in Shin'ichi's eyes. We went back to wasabi after that since we realized that someone was going to walk with stinging eyes every time we had a food fight, whether it was wasabi or it was a lemon.

That was when I kind of quit dinner. Volunteered to take care of Yuuji and said to hell with the spectacle. From what I heard, Kiyoe and Touru started making out. Yeah, PDA and I don't really mix so I'm kind of glad I wasn't there to see that one. Since second grade, I've kind of developed a bit of a phobia towards kissing and intimacy. Anything romantic or sexual. I can cuddle a little boy just fine but give me a grown man and I'll be headed for the hills.

So yeah, that was March 1st. This is my first entry in my auto-biography. Hopefully I'll get better at ending the chapters as this monstrosity continues on. Who knows, I may gave up on this crap in a few days when it really sets in that this kind of takes a lot of energy. Maybe not though. Whatever, I'm tired, my orange sheets are calling to me, my homework is done, my eyes are starting to sting from staring at my computer screen and my fingers are cramping. So with that, I bid you ado until tomorrow.


	3. II - March 2nd

**To the two reviews from Ooooooooo and Guest: I was tempted for a moment to do as you said and discontinue one of my stories. This one though, to spite you because enjoyed this one. I didn't though, I enjoy writing this story so I continued. But I was still pissed at your reviews. I don't give a damn about pairing, I write whatever story comes to me and for me, one of those stories was Sesshoumaru-Kagome and one of them was Sesshoumaru-Rin. I have another story planned that is Sesshoumaru-Sango. Why? Because I have no horse in the pairing game, it doesn't matter to me. And anyway, if you care so much about pairing a character with two different love interests in two different stories, then why was their no comment about the fact I have a Sesshoumaru-Kagome and Inuyasha-Kagome story? Glad you enjoyed the story but your sincerely pissed me off.**

**To the other reviewers, thank you for the reviews. Most of them, except for maybe one other, really made my day.**

* * *

**Day 2 – March 2****nd**

**Bus**

I'm glad to board the bus this morning. The kids were crazy today. For some reason, the elementary students got yesterday off, don't know why but they did, and for some reason they're excited to go to school. That made me excited to go to school, where I will be once more the socially inept person that I am, simply because I wanted to get away from them and they go to school later than I do. I kind of feel bad for Kaede, she has to deal with an excited Kyouko, and an excited Kyouko is like giving Godzilla sugar. To say the least, it is a disaster.

The bus drives up and I wave goodbye to the other teenagers at the Orphanage. I go to a different school them then, Morihara High School where the go to Haneda High School. We're about equal distance from both schools, so we have the choice to go to either one. They have friends there though, so they wanted to stay, understandable. I had no attachment to anyone there and I felt like transferring, so I talked to Kaede and she got it all sorted out. I think it was a good decision; after all, I finally have a friend.

As I type this I feel like someone is hitting me with a bag of bricks because how obviously pathetic my pathetic life is. Why am I torturing myself like this?

Whatever. I board the bus; take the first empty seat I can find. We are not, _not_, doing what I did yesterday and being a complete creep to some random girl. You know, it typically helps to not have a reputation of being a creep when you're trying to make friends with people. Sure, I've got Naraku, Inuyasha and Miroku maybe, and if I'm feeling really lonely, there is always Kikumi and her pack of wolves, but I do want more than one friend and three maybe friends. So again, being a creep is not going to get me my goal.

Kids board the bus as they always do, tired, slouching, their backpack thrown over one arm and jingling as they walk past me. Disinterested, I-hate-the-world teenagers. Their a lovely bunch, with their long hair the covers their eyes, piercings everywhere they can get them, gages that will inevitably make their ears look fugly by their time their eighty, and everything that can make a middle-aged woman scream and piss her pants. As I said, they are a lovely bunch. And I completely contrast with them with my un-dyed black hair, wide, innocent brown eyes, green, knee-length skirt, and brown blouse. Oh my god, I'm utterly pathetic, completely self-loathing, and wondering if I'm in a romance novel rather than an auto-biography as I type this up. Aren't I so meta?

The bus lurches to a halt at another stop. Resting my cheek against the cold glass of the bus window, I peer out to see who's getting on even though I know I won't recognize a single one of them. Of course, I don't. The board the bus and one of them sits next to me. Okay, it's a crowded bus, to be expected. Nothing off in someone deciding they want to sit down and sitting down next to me. Right?

"You some whore or something?" says the girl next to me. I'm taken aback, rightly so. _What?_ Who asks someone they don't even know if they're a whore? Anyway, what would give this, pardon my French, bitch any indication that I am sexually loose. Because I read erotica? Every girl and their mom does, but not every girl and their mom is a whore. My clothing? Yeah, sure, because I look like a whore in a knee-length skirt, fuzzy boots, and a brown blouse. So whorish. Wait… I thought that whores were supposed to where leather mini-skirts and low cut halter tops that showed off their mid-drift.

"What the hell?" I ask, because honestly, that's the only thing in my mind. What the hell? Who does that? Who says that? Look, I'm socially inept, but your have to be socially retarded to just ask someone out of the blue if they're a whore. I really hate this bitch right now, and it takes a lot to get on my bad side. I'm all bark, not really, and no bite so it's not like anything's going to happen if you get on my bad side, but still, she's on my bad side.

"Only a whore would hang out with Naraku."

I am open my mouth to say something about how rude and judgmental she is being, but the bus comes to a halt again for another group of waiting students and she gets up and moves. Coward was the only word in my mind for her. God, who says that? Honestly, I'm know I'm making a big deal out of it, but I'm just in doing so because I don't deserve to be called a whore simply because I befriended someone they don't like. God, sometimes I hate people.

**School**

Get off the bus. Same as yesterday, gaggles and gaggles of students. I see Ayame run up to her punk wanna-be boyfriend and start with the PDA. I look for the bitch who asked me if I was a whore, and I see her run up to a certain blonde. Guess who just go taken off of my maybe friend list? Yeah, Kikumi. Good to know I was right about her friends. They don't like me. Well, I don't feel so bad about not liking them anymore.

With a huff, I walk past the gates and the sign. The doors still aren't open, just like they weren't yesterday, so I take a seat on one of the cold, sodden benches and pull out my book. New book, finished Atlantic Memories yesterday. It was a pretty weak book, definitely not one of her best. This book is by a Korean author, so it has me intrigued. When I was perusing the shelves of the local used bookstore, I was actually kind of surprised to find it. Typically I can't find anything Korean in any book store. I'm more likely to find a book by a Chinese author than I am a Korean one.

It's called The Moon Dreamer. I haven't started it so I'm really excited.

_Yoon Jung was my name. I didn't like the name Yoon Jung though. I didn't like much about my life. That's why I have a different life, and a different name. In reality, I was Noe Yoon Jung. In the Moon Land, I was Ri Mi Yun. _

_Don't ask me how I came up with Ri Mi Yun. I don't know myself. Perhaps I was watching dramas, and I subconsciously noted a character named Mi Yun. Perhaps I heard it in passing as I trudged down one of the sidewalks under the grey sky, right beside one of the grey sky-scrapers that reached for the grey sky. I don't know, but I like it._

_I guess everyone hates their name. At least, that's what my husband tells me. He always tells me that he hates his name too, P'il Song Hun. We don't share a last name. I hate his last name. P'il? That sounds like the American word for medication, __**pill**__. I don't want to have a name that sounds like medication. _

I glance up from my book when I notice the students lazily strolling towards the doors. The first crowd has dispersed, the crowd that had gathered by the door. I shove away the book with a saddened sigh. I know I'll probably get to class and start reading more of it. Still, it's cold and damp out here and I didn't bring a jacket so I need to get in, or at least according to the goose bumps marring my beautiful tanned skin. Wow, that sounded really narcissistic.

I head inside, and to the stairs. Kikumi and her friends haven't gathered by them like they had yesterday, which I'm glad for. I don't know what I'd say to Kikumi if she called out to me again. Then again, maybe she shares her friend's view. Maybe she'll never want to talk to me again since I befriended Naraku. Whatever, those thoughts are depressing.

I take the steps two at a time, up into the upstairs hallway. There are three floors to Morihara High School. The first floor was for first years, the second floor for second years, and the third floor for third years. I don't know why my locker is on the second floor instead of the first like everyone else in my year, but I'm going to assume there just wasn't a free locker on the first floor so they gave me one on the second floor. Annoying, but unimportant I guess. Maybe good, it might give me a chance to befriend some second years if I get over my incredibly lame social discomfort. Which will never happen, so scratch that thought.

Anyhow…

I head for my locker. There are some second years already hanging about, talking loudly. I hunch up my shoulders to make myself small. I have enough problems acting like a normal, even semi-confident human being around my peers; upperclassman, I'm shaking in my stylish yet affordable boots. I pass them by and head for my locker though; they don't seem to notice me so that's a good thing. I spin the lock to the correct numbers, toss in my bag, pull out the text books I need, then slam the door, ready to leave.

Oh no though, Rin's not that lucky. As I'm turning to head back to the stairs, I have a head on-collision with one of the upperclassmen. When I say head on, I really mean my forehead bumps into the middle of his chest, I hiss in pain, and he grunts at the feeling of slight pressure.

Immediately I look up at him, ready to stutter out some stupid apology that will make it crystal clear to everyone on the second floor that I'm just some mousey first year who so doesn't belong. But oh my god… this man, this man! Oh I must've died and gone to heaven… if heaven was full of attractive underwear models. I'm not saying he's an underwear model of course, but he's damn attractive enough that I don't think I'd mind seeing him in a pair of skin tight briefs.

"What's a first year like you doing here?" he asks in a gravelly voice. All I can do is stare stupefied at him as other students turn to look at us. I must be drooling or something. Damn, he is on fire! Get him to take his shirt off and pose for a book cover, I'd buy that book even if it was about economics.

He leans into me. Oh my god, he is leaning in close to me. I can smell his after-shave, and is that a minty mouth-wash? Ooo la la. He leans in real close, his breath on my ear. My heart must've been racing at a million beats a minute. "Close your mouth," he whispers sensually, "you'll catch a fly."

And then the entire hallway bursts into laughter. Jerk.

I immediately close my mouth, heavens know I'm a big enough germaphobe that eating a bug would send me catatonic, and scurry away, leaving behind me and my red cheeks a crowd of laughing hyenas and a handsome man who might as well be the devil.

**Lunch**

My classes before lunch, which are math, history, and economics, were all boring and totally not note-worthy. Inuyasha and Miroku goofed off a little and the teachers yelled at them. They were still friendly, which was nice, and Inuyasha insinuated no threats against my life which was even better. It's good to know that my new found friendship in Naraku hasn't taken away all of my friends. Just Kikumi, even though I don't know if Kikumi even cares. Whatever, right?

I take my black bento into the cafeteria and find an empty table. I look around the room, and spot Naraku standing in the line to get some food. We meet eyes and I wave at him, and he nods to return the acknowledgement. With that out of the way, I turn back to my bento and remove the lid. Unlike yesterday, I won't be waiting until five minutes before the end of lunch to eat my food. I'm starved, I'm digging in now.

Kaede packed me leftover soba noodles from last night. Eh, I really don't like leftover soba noodles but when you've lived in the Orphanage your entire life, you've learned to take what you can get. Being picky is just going to get you hunger pains. Kaede tries her best to make everyone happy, but taking care of twenty-six kids makes it near damn impossible to please us all.

"The Moon Dreamer…" Naraku reads as he sits down next to me, his tray clacking against the plastic table. "By So Do Yeon… Interesting book. You like foreign authors?"

"Why would you suggest that?" I ask him after swallowing my food. He smirks at me in return, and suddenly I know exactly why he suggested that.

"Atlantic Memories by Daisy Cline, the heavily panned erotica novel that still made hundreds of thousands dollars in the state and was translated and shipped to nearly thirty countries worldwide." I can feel my cheeks heating up. "That is why I'm asking if you like foreign writers, since yesterday it was a book from the states and today it's a Korean one."

"Yeah, yeah," I say with a wave of my hand. He rolls his red eyes and shovels in his udon noodles. They look a whole lot better than my soba noodles, to be honest, but I've already gone on a long tangent about how crappy they are so I'll save you from my repetitiveness. Still, I can't help but eye his udon noodles while I slowly begin on my own food.

"Here," he says, shoving his tray towards me. Instantly I look up at his face, surprised by his action. "Those look like crap and I'm not that hungry, so you take these." I can feel the smile growing on my face, and I feel like hugging, and I damn near do but my stomach rumbles. I push aside my bento with the crappy soba noodles and get to work on the udon noodles he has so generously offered. They are like heaven, oh. My god, Naraku is my savior. If he asked me to, I would build him a temple and tend to it every day because this udon has proved to me that Naraku is the most benevolent god.

Yeah…

Slurping the udon noodles into my mouth, I look up at him. He's resting his head on his hands as he watches me eat, a goofy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. I smile back at him before continuing to slurp up the udon noodles.

Some people might think I'm stupid for befriending Naraku. Some people might think I'm crazy. Hell, I _know_ someone thinks I'm a whore because of it. But this is worth more to me than any of their opinions are, or any friendship I might have with them if I started snubbing Naraku. We're not talking right now, not laughing about my enjoyment of erotica novels; we're just sitting here, me eating while he watches. This is worth so much to me, more so than any of those people could offer me. There is not a doubt in my mind that says sticking by his side won't pay off.

Being at a new school, you care about what people are going to think of you, what they're going to say to you, and much, much more. I've been here two days, well technically a day and a half, and I care what they think still. I don't want to be unpopular or a social pariah. Who does? And hell, I've known him two days. It feels like a lifetime though. You know what? If being his friend makes me a social pariah, then to hell with it, I'll be a social pariah.

I look at him again, and my smile grows. He raises an eyebrow, but I don't say anything, just smile and return to the udon noodles.

**Gym**

By this point I've probably painted in your mind the picture of a rather wimpy, extremely weak, and well, pathetic fifteen year old girl who reads erotica and hates herself. If that's the image in your mind then you have the right image. I can touch my thumb to my middle finger if I wrap my hand around my wrist and still have room left over. So, as you've probably already guessed, I'm skinny and weak and not the type that likes gym. But after my English class, I have gym. I managed to get out of it yesterday because I didn't have a gym uniform, they didn't have any extras, and they don't let you participate without one. I still don't have one, asked the substitute, they still don't have one, and I'm left sitting on the bleachers as the play baseball down in the field.

I'm fine with that. I don't really have any desire to play baseball so I'm good just sitting here on my hands as the cold wind blows and raises goose bumps on my legs and arms. Okay, I'm lying, I'd much rather be down there getting exercise and being pathetic, but at least being warm. Nope, things just aren't going my way.

They probably won't be able to get me a gym uniform until after the real gym teacher gets back. Yeah, you heard that, there is a substitute so I have no idea how mean the real gym teacher will be. You know that the gym teacher will be mean. That's just the way gym teachers are, they're mean and crass, they hate all of us lazy, couch potato teenagers, and they never, ever, run with us on the track. I believe they call him Daidouji-sensei.

I watch as they play. It's boring to watch them play, and very frigid. Honestly, I wish I could've brought The Moon Dreamer with me, but I had to leave it in my locker according to some rule or another, barely managing to avoid that jerk from earlier today who completely embarrassed me in front of so many other upperclassman. I don't know, seems like I'm being punished for something I have no control over though but I guess whatever.

You know something I've noticed while I've been writing this? How much I use the word whatever. Need to find a thesaurus I guess.

I'm practically dozing off when I hear the tell-tale clunks of someone stepping up the bleachers. I look up and find a woman. She's got brown hair she has in a high pony-tail, and brown eyes. She's also wearing a pink hair band that, might I add, looks very nice on her. She's limping too, I notice. Must've tripped or something. I smile at her and scoot over, patting the space beside. With a shrug of her shoulders she comes over and easers herself down, resting her foot on the bleacher in front of us.

"What happened?" I ask her. She's massaging the ankle of the foot she has elevated, so I can kind of guess that she twisted it or something. I feel like she should be in the nurse's office rather than up here with me though.

"Dumbass Inuyasha," she hisses in return. "Bastard thought it'd be funny to trip me up while I running to third base. Probably twisted my goddamn ankle." I do cringe at her language but quickly recover, because seriously, I'm probably the only high-school student in the history of high-school students that tries to keep her swearing to a minimum. I swear, but not in every sentence, you know?

"I know Inuyasha," I whisper, then feel like hitting myself. What does it matter if I know Inuyasha? I can see she's thinking the same thing when she looks at me, her brown eyes narrowed at me, a slight part to her lips. I hang my head. So, so stupid. I'm just stupid. Look at me loathe myself some more, rightly so since I'm a bigger dumbass than Inuyasha for just blurting out that I know Inuyasha even though this woman is obviously in pain and pissed at Inuyasha. "I'm so sorry. I-I-I... Sorry, I'm just really awkward and didn't know what to say so I just the first thing on my mind and it wasn't very smart and well…"

She gives me one last skeptical look before leaning back, folding her arms over her chest, and smirking at me. This time, it's my turn to look surprised. "My name's Watabe Sango. I'm on the girls' basketball team so you've probably heard of me."

"I actually haven't," I say, smiling at her. She looks at me expectantly, and once more I look stupefied. Then it hits me like a train. "I'm sorry, again. My name's Yoshida Rin. I'm new."

Sango chuckled. "You'd have to be new if you haven't heard of me, I'm quite popular around here. This school loves its basketball."

"Well I am new, but I guess I'm not so new anymore," I say with a small, awkward giggle. Gah, that was stupid. Well, I was new, but now that you, a popular girl has introduced yourself to me and told me a little about the school, I'm not quite as new. "I'm sorry," I repeat, "I know I'm really lame and that was really lame. Apologies you're stuck with me for now."

"And no longer," Sango said with a smirk, looking out into the field. I look out to see watch she's watching, and I saw a figure lying on the ground, holding his leg. It's Miroku I realize, and I also see Inuyasha walking towards us. They didn't… Sango hit me lightly in the arm, a playful smile on her lips. "Aren't they great? Inuyasha tripped Miroku, the substitute is making him sit out, and Miroku has to sit out too since he's injured."

"Yeah, they're great," I whisper.

Inuyasha and Miroku come up the bleachers. They chat with Sango, and I get ignored. Slouching back, I spend my gym class listening to them have fun and know that I'm not having any fun with them. You know, I can't wait for Daidouji-sensei to get back. Put me through hell running the track; it sounds much better than being the odd man out yet again.

**After School**

After pushing my way through yet another crowd attempting to escape the school, I step outside and breathe in the cool, refreshing fresh air. I am so glad that school was over for the day. I don't know how much longer I could've kept up with faking interest in topics such as examining the Tale of Genji, or hearing some idiot step up in front of the class and read aloud a "story" that would make even a third grader cringe. I had had enough, and when I stepped out of that school that day, it was like achieving Nirvana.

My eyes land on the bus though, and that Nirvana I reached slipped out of my grasp. Oh I so don't want to. Just no. No, no, no. I'm not going to sit on a cramped bus, with a ton of other students screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs, laughing and chatting about stuff I have no interest and completely ignoring me. Maybe I sound self-centered, but I don't care. No thank you to being ignored again.

When my eyes land on Naraku, I knew I didn't have to get on the bus. Sure, Kaede might be a little worried when I don't step off the bus, but I am not getting on that thing. My head and heart are screaming no to the bus, so I dash towards Naraku and push the hulking contraption that was supposed to bring me home to the back of my mind.

Naraku is surprised to see me, or at least that's what I assume from the way his red eyes widen. I smile at him, clasping my hands behind my back. A small smile pulls at him too, and it just makes my smile grow. All I can to say to this, unlike the bus, is yes.

He rolls his eyes. "What are you doing? Don't you have some home to return to, a bus to board?" he asks me. I roll my eyes to as we begin walking along the side-walk.

"Yeah, sure, but today has been hell for some reason and that bus is just another level of hell," I respond. "Anyway, I really don't feel like returning to the Orphanage and cracking down on homework so I'm here with you, got it?" I see him squint his eyes at me, and I squint mine back in return. Do I have a booger or something? Is my hair on my fire? Did I grow a second head or a different, extra limb? Because the way he's looking at me, it kind of seems that way.

"Orphanage?" he finally asks. "You're an orphan?"

"Oh," I murmur. "Yeah, I am. I've always lived at the Orphanage, never knew who my parents were." My smile had fallen but it returns as a humorous thought crosses my mind. "Hey, with both have tragic backstories. Your father was a murderer, and I have no parents. We're the perfect duo, don't you think?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head at my joke. I'm smiling like I'm high on laughing gas, you know, fun. "We are the perfect duo," he begins in overly dramatic tone of voice. "Unloved, unwanted, we waste alone in the shadows of our peers. They do not see us, and when they do, they run. We are to be feared, they think, for we are monsters of the strongest caliber. They do not bother to know us, to learn who we are. The soul inside is forgotten, nothing but dust on the wind for them. Do not, they think, for we are evil."

I burst out into laughter, and out of the corners of my narrowed eyes, I can see Naraku chuckling too. Gah, that was priceless. Perfect pick me up after a not so perfect day.

When the laughter subsides, and the silence falls, we stroll along in silence. Cars drive past us, with irritated drivers who are one shaking coffee sip away from having scorching yet soaked jeans, and a tirade of curses that I could never say without turning as red as a tomato.

"Where are you headed?" I question, breaking the calm silence. I see the smile on his lips disappear, and I realize maybe that wasn't such the best question.

"Home, I guess." He pauses to sigh. "A little apartment downtown, two bedrooms, one bath, a tiny kitchen, and only a TV to keep me company. Muso, my uncle and guardian, is still away in Bangkok chasing some pretty woman who has captured his lecherous, unfaithful heart." He then looks at me, his lips quirked. "Oh wow I'm being dramatic today, aren't I?"

I don't know whether to laugh or to frown, so out comes this awkward giggle and a bright red blush. Oh, fun. Rin's being her awkward self I see. "Um, I guess? Um… sorry about your uncle. At least you have family?" I offer. He shrugs his shoulders, a mordant smirk on his lips. "How about we go get ice cream instead?" I say.

"Do you have cash on you?" he asks. A sheepish grin spreads across my lips. I don't. I typically don't. Sure we get a little money for birthdays or other special occasions, and I'm a good saver and all, but I kind of usually spend my money on the kids. So know, when I suggested we have ice cream I was kind of hoping he would pay for it. He seems to realize this. "I have money on me, and I suppose I can spend some of it on you." Excitement fills me. "_But_," his words make my excitement slip away, "what do I get in return?"

"My undying loyalty and friendship," I say. Wow, Rin, you're being lame. What could anyone expect me to offer besides that though? Not that, you lechers, not that in a million years. And for those that don't understand, no I won't explain.

"I guess that's good enough for me," he says in mock disappointment. I chuckle, he does too, and we go get ice cream.

He gets purple sweet potato flavored ice cream. Yeah, the concept that Japan has some pretty weird flavors of ice cream isn't unfounded. I don't understand why he got it though, and the semi disgusted and semi curious look on my face kind of gives that away. I get red bean and green tea flavored ice cream so maybe I'm not exactly American kosher, but you Americans love our green tea flavored Kit-Kats and well, red bean is so sweet so it's like the Japanese version of cookies and cream.

I try a bite of his during our meal of ice cream and oh god, I did not like it. Sorry, I will so no to purple sweet potato flavored ice cream. He can say yes, but after that bite, it will always be hell no for me, and hell yes to green tea and red bean flavored ice cream. And hell yes to doing this again with Naraku.

**The Orphanage**

When I get in the door of the Orphanage, standing in the entry-way is a frowning Kaede. Yes, a sheepish grin followed and a totally deserved scolding.

"You should've called," she started with, her gravelly voice adding to the graveness of the tone of said voice. My sheepish grin widens, and her frown deepens. "Rin, I was worried. I didn't know where you were. You know to call if you're going to do something unplanned."

I massage my temples as I let my bag fall off my shoulder and to the ground. I know I should've called. I knew I would worry Kaede. I know I was irresponsible in not telling her. I also know it's not like I went and did drugs or had unprotected sex, but I still should've called. She was expecting me to get off the bus, to come home to the Orphanage, and help her with dinner since that's what I always do. I dropped the ball though, I went with a friend which I know she would've been fine with, and didn't tell her not to expect me. I know this is my fault, I'm not that stupid.

I approach Kaede and wrap my arms around her neck. She sighs, but hugs me back. She knows this is me apologizing without me saying anything, and after all the laughing and talking I did with Naraku over ice cream, my throat is hurting.

"I'm making Nikujaga. Do you want to help?" she asks when I pull away. I smile and nod at her, and everything is good.

Perhaps it wasn't the greatest day ever. It's not like I won a million bucks, fell in love, or met my real parents. Today was still good however, despite some of its hellish parts. I got closer with Naraku, I met a new person who I might actually become friends with, and I got to eat ice cream. Sure, I got totally embarrassed by some idiot, some girl called me a bitch simply because I hang out with Naraku, it felt like hell during class, and my throat is hurting, but todays a day I will look back on fondly.


End file.
